Tenochtitlan's Traps
by Happiness and Hamsters
Summary: My first SYOT, taking a look at the history books (very dusty), and unravelling the past... In an arena!
1. Seneca's Challenge

Seneca Crane stroked his (rather darn awesome) beard absentmindedly. President Snow had personally requested this particular arena. It was an incredibly over-used idea, but it was his test. As Vice-Head Gamemaker, this was it for him. If he got this right, he'd be Head Gamemaker. _Head Gamemaker!_ President Snow had requested an urban arena. Which Seneca could have done two ways. One, re-created the Capitol or districts, or he could have thought outside the box. Which he did. Seneca recalled his mission he'd given to 8 of the Junior Gamemakers, along with a promise of a promotion to Gamemaker, and it was to journey to lands not traversed by humans for millennia, to find and locate the four pre-ancient civilizations of Mexico, Egypt, Greece and Italy. The cities targeted by the eight were Tenochtitlan, the Aztec civilization's home; Thebes, the original capital of Egypt and home to the Egyptians; Athens, capital of Greece and home to the Ancient Greeks and Rome, the capital of Italy and home to the Ancient Romans. They had been sent out to gather information on the way the people of the civilization lived, the way they survived, protection, myths, legends, weapons, foods, even the layout of the buildings. He wanted _everything_. He was to create an awesome hybrid of four different pre-ancient civilizations, a city that was built on the foundations of the past, to utilize the faiths and cultures, myths and legends, to create the ultimate arena. Seneca was going the History route. He was very pleased with the outcome. Clapping his hands together, he called the Muttation team over. "All right, welcome back. What we're looking for is something based on some of the greater myths of Tenochtitlan…" After having briefed the Muttation team, he went around and briefed the other teams. Finally he went back to his front pedestal, and began by saying, "Welcome back. Every project has a name, every single one of the Gamemaker Arenas have had names. What will it be this year?" A man at the back put his hand up and said, "Sir, as there are 4 cities on focus, but really, only one has a lot of showing in the finished arena. Tenochtitlan. So, I think it should be called Tenochtitlan's Traps." Seneca stopped. "Yes. Tenochtitlan's Traps. Perfect."

**A.N. So! First chapter up! Yay!**


	2. District 1 Reaping

Morgana  
Morgana Zarzaria slouched casually on a chair, the spindly legs appearing to be gravity-defying. She sighed. Wearing a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt, along with her hair tied neatly back in a bun with a cap on; anyone would believe she was a boy at first glance. She grabbed a puffy blue gilet and stepped out of the house into a rushing cold blast of wind right in her face. She ignored it; some of her friends would have slammed the door and re-set their hair. She carried on towards the Academy of Fighting Training; the wealthiest families sent their children here to learn basic and/or advanced training in sword-fighting, katana, melee, bow and arrow, spear, mace, throwing and non-throwing knives and also basic first aid in case of injury during training. Supposedly. Anyway, Morgana was walking to the Academy. She whistled happily. A few of her friends spotted her and waved her over. Among them was Kitty. Unfortunately for her, her real name was Kinkatra. Tasteful. Kitty had been friends with Morgana for years, however they had drifted apart somewhat after Morgana became more of a tomboy and Kitty being more of a petty princess. Morgana hugged Kitty. "Hey Morgana, where you headed?" Morgana jerked her head in the direction of the Academy. "Oh, y'know, just stuff." She knew that Kitty disapproved of her continued training within the Academy. Kitty pursed her lips. "For goodness sake, take a break! You're there, day after day, trying to be better. You'd sweep through the Hunger Games like it was simply a wave in your wake. Easily. Really, Morgana, chillax. You need it more than anyone else I know." Morgana smiled and wheedled, "Just a few minutes? Please?" Kitty shrugged. "Your choice… Just remember the Reaping."

* * *

Rohen  
Rohen Derelve stood waiting for the dummy to be placed within the obstacle course at the Academy. When he was given the all-clear, he stepped forward and rolled under a small opening, which then shut behind him with a neat metallic click. He crouched in the plain t-shirt and grey trousers all Academy trainees were required to wear. He found a pouch nearby, which he picked up and opened. A small amount of berries were inside, along with a long knife with a blade as sharp as broken glass, A large hunk of meat that was fresh and smelling pleasantly of herbs, a khaki button up shirt and a crossbow with nine bolts. He grinned. Crossbow was one of the few ranged weapons he was good-ish at. He would have preferred to have a bow and arrows, but crossbow would have to do. He buttoned on the shirt, which would camouflage him better in the event he made a noise to disturb the dummy. The dummy learned and could remember what sounds a person made and ones an animal would make, but not quite distinguish the two without careful thinking, like a human. He crept forward. He saw a large hedgerow in front of him, and he lay flat to peer under it rather than barge right through it. That was a wise decision. The bot he was sneaking up on was through the hedgerow, just starting a fire with its back to him. It evidently wasn't very good at it, as it was no closer to lighting a fire three minutes later, when Rohen had found a space wide enough to crawl through. He snuck through it and carefully withdrew the knife. He snapped a branch and had to quickly duck behind a small shrub inside the clearing. The bot stopped a moment, looked around and then moved on, still attempting to light the fire. Rohen sighed quietly, withdrawing the crossbow first. He wasn't sure whether to try and get a bolt into the head or stab it from the back. As he was more skilled with a bow and arrows, a crossbow was pretty similar, if not easier. He silently loaded the bow, picked it up, aimed and fired. WHUMP! The bolt lodged in the neck of the bot, which keeled over. It wasn't "dead" yet, but it was paralyzed. "You know, it's best to light a fire with dry tinder." Rohen said as he drove the knife home into the chest of the dummy. All fell silent. He breathed a sigh of relief. But, to his surprise, a latch did not open and a voice did not say he could leave. All that was said was, "Hello, Rohen."

He spun around. It was Morgana. "Really? You're in here too? Why? Are you getting in some last minute practice for the Games before you get Reaped?" Morgana taunted. Rohen frowned. "Being Reaped would be a great honour, although disappointing as it would be very likely that someone would volunteer." Morgana snorted. "Oh really? I think you're scared." Rohen scowled. "I'm not scared. You're hungry. Want some meat? I got some in my starter pack. Or we could fight over it. You'd lose." He then teased. Morgana frowned. "No, you'd lose and besides, I've got berries. They were in _my_ starter pack." She picked up the berries, and Rohen shouted, "No!" Morgana put them in her mouth, and Rohen launched on her, blocking her nose and opening her mouth. "Spit it out!" Morgana scowled, and then did so. "What was that for, dummy?" she complained. Rohen cried out, "That's poison berries. I think they call it nightlock. Locked forever in night, they say. Except they never wake up. It's horrible. Don't make that mistake again, or you'll never wake again." He would reflect later that sounded a little too poetical for his nature, but now he was stood in front of a rapidly paling Morgana. She collapsed to the ground, and Rohen rushed over. "Are you all right? Did you swallow a bit of the berry?" She shook her head, and he filled with relief. "Thank goodness. What happened? Do you feel faint? Do you want to lie down?" Seeing his worried face, she twisted her face into a faint smile. "I'll be fine," she croaked, "But I just need to thank you. You saved my life there. I'd be dead right now if you hadn't stopped me. I'm in your debt." Rohen simply smiled and said, "No need to thank me. I've seen enough to know. You'd never have known those were poison berries, even if we weren't throwing insults like you throw knives." Morgana smiled. "No need to compliment me. I've seen enough of _you_ to know. You are refusing to accept the way you are, and I'm not going to try and change that. Bye, Rohen." She sat up, then stood, turned and left, leaving Rohen alone. He turned and left to change for the Reaping.

* * *

Reaping  
Holding his top hat, Charlie Standard waited for the cue. When he received it, he replaced the top hat onto his head and patted his white hair flat. His beard, one that would give the stereotypical Santa Claus a run for his money, hung thick and fluffy down to his chest. He cleared his throat, opened his cracked lips and began to speak. "Welcome, to the District 1 Reaping. This will be my last Reaping." A stir went around at this, as Charlie was well loved by the districts, Capitol and Panem in general, for his kind eyes and endless words of advice, he was almost better than the mentors for keeping people cheerful and hopeful. He would be like a grandfather. Anyway, back to the Reaping. "This will be my last Reaping. I have been advised by doctors to retire, and will do so at the ripe age of 95. I am now 95. My time has come. I will however, be handing over my job to Dendrite Hugo, a man with a wonderful sense of humour and a great character." Somewhere in the Capitol Dendrite smiled and had a quiet chuckle. After all, he'd done it. He'd reached the top of the pile. He's currently District 3's escort. We'll meet him later. Anyway, back to Charlie. "I will do this Reaping with honour, and I'll be damned if my favourite district doesn't have more volunteers than there are names in the ball." He smiled. "Ladies first. I always liked ladies, very pretty." He walked, or hobbled over to the girls' ball, withdrawing one after a short pause, and returning, unfolding it and reading, "Ruby Platinum Scarlett-Mould. Would you be a darling and come on up?" Ruby barely walked a step before seven, "I volunteer!" s broke out. A few seconds later, a clear voice called out, "Sheesh guys, wait a few seconds and then volunteer. I volunteer, anyway." The owner of the voice was Morgana, who had quite recovered from the shock of the nightlock incident in the Academy, and now strode long, purposeful strides up to the podium. "I volunteer." Morgana repeated. When asked for her name, she replied, "I'm Morgana Zarzaria, but no-one can pronounce that. So just call me Morgana." Charlie nodded.

"Boys' are next. Me being a boy; always preferred the girlies myself." He hobbled over there, picked one at random, and returned, smoothing the paper. "Roger Nicholson. Be a good lad and hop on up here. Or should I say let your volunteer hop on up here?" About twelve volunteer shouts rang out this time, and then a few more, and then finally, "I volunteer," came from the mouth of Rohen Derelve. He strode up, and told Charlie his name. Charlie nodded, uttered the famous words, "Shake hands," and then they were entering the Justice building, each as excited as the other.


	3. District 2 Reaping

Lauren  
Lauren Simons sat on the family couch, writing avidly in her pale green notebook. Her father had painted it for her. The father in question, Myem Rupert, sat on the stool in front of their bar table, absent-mindedly shovelling noodles into his mouth. Her mother, Erica Rupert stood cooking in front of their new hob, a modern, futuristic thing that cooked using magnetic power and some fancy thing called microwaving. Lauren half expected some small people to come out doing the conga and waving insanely. She smiled at the thought. In her pale green notebook, she wrote a diary, and it was one of her only treasured possessions. If she was to die, or the book got passed around, even just around her family, she would die. She wrote her heart out in there. She wrote about love, her life, secrets of the deepest and darkest variety, stories that lay untold, drawings and paintings of landscapes unknown, you get the picture. She did a lot of random things in there. So anyway, she's sitting there, writing and doodling and whatever, and suddenly, someone jumped on her, and roared, "AMBUSH!" Lauren laughed, turned around and caught her adoptive brother in mid-jump, deftly twisting his arms behind his back and saying, "Nice try, brother. You caught me by surprise." Emile Rupert said, "Yes. Result!" Lauren giggled and let go of his arms. She embraced her (adoptive) brother tightly, squeezing him so hard he squawked in indignation. "Hey, not so hard! That hurts!" She let go and said, "Sorry about that. It's just, it's… Never mind." Emile said, "C'mon Lo. What's up? We're the same age, dude. We can talk." Lauren sighed. "It's about…" Emile finished for her, "…Lana? I understand, sister. Twins are forever united, through thick and thin, hard times and good times." Emile is a rather philosophical man, for 18. "They're together forever. An awful thing happened to you. You lost her; you lost your twin sister." He paused, throat tightening. "It's very hard for you, but she's your guardian angel, always watching over you. She's there, in your heart." He touched two fingers to her chest. "She doesn't need to be right here, right now, but she is always there in your heart and mind, ready to give advice and just be there for you." Emile hugged her tightly, as she struggled to maintain her composure. Lauren choked the tears back at the thought of her sister. To ensure her parents did not see, Emile walked her outside, where she took deep gulps of air, trying to calm her troubled breathing. Once she had, Emile smiled and took her hand, saying that they needed to get ready for the Reaping, and that the dress she had been given (a creamy cotton colour which came up to her knees) was on her bed. She hugged him and took his hand. "For the last time?" she asked. "Yes," he replied, "The last time we will be in the Reaping." He hugged her affectionately, before leaving to get ready himself. When she returned, he was in a white shirt with a red tie and a black coat, with black, neatly pressed trousers with a brown belt with a brass buckle. He wore dark brown shoes and had neatly laced them, small, efficient loops and short ends. She was wearing a yellow dress with a motif of a vine trailing up her left side, which came up to her knees, along with a pair of pale blue pumps. She waved to her brother, leaving the house to go and find her friends. He waved back, and headed off to the square. She walked around to her friend Herd Martin (who's 15) house, then, having picked him up, went to go and get Helm and Diana Lìonerk. These were her closest friends, and despite the age gap (Helm being 16, and Diana being 14), they were as thick as thieves as they say (whoever _they_ are). She walked to the Reaping, and stuck out her finger for testing. A needle jabbed in, and she pressed her finger down on her name space, imprinting her fingertip's ridges and whorls and god knows what in a somewhat gory stamp. She waited for her friends, and then filed into the Reaping square.

* * *

Yoran  
Yoran Wamback collapsed onto his bed; his 17 year old body could convince anyone that he was 25, or even older. He was muscular, and had just returned from the gym, sweating like crazy. He panted for a while, caught his breath and then stood, leaving a Yoran-shaped sweat mark on his bedcover. He left for the bathroom, returning a few minutes later, smelling fresh as a daisy, except he didn't smell like a daisy. He dressed, putting on a plain grey t-shirt, blue jeans and then laced up a pair of white trainers with three red stripes diagonally down each side. He strolled downstairs, to see his half-brother and half-sister, Ryan Wamback and Devin Wamback respectively. He affectionately punched Ryan on the shoulder, and hugged Devin, whispering in her ear, "How's my little sister today?" She smiled and whispered, "I'm fine, Joe." He stood up, glanced at his father, passed out (a chronic alcoholic) and frowned. He hadn't noticed before, but it seemed he had been out for an awfully long time. He stood up, hustled Devin upstairs and changed her into a sky-blue dress. When he returned, his father's red nose had gone somewhat purple, and he was awake, slurring and moaning and grumping. Yoran sighed and said to Ryan, "Ready to go?" Ryan rolled his eyes at his father and said, "Yeah, we're ready. Bye, _Dad._" He said the last sentence almost mockingly to see if he would respond. He didn't. They left, with Devin in tow, chatting amiably about cheeses and pizza and really random things like the amount of sheep a wolf mutt could eat before it was full (an infinite number, was what they decided), and how many mountains a goat mutt could climb (not many; the ones the Capitol had created couldn't jump). They arrived at the square, stamped their finger in blood, and waited for their Capitol escort to begin the ceremony.

* * *

Reaping**  
**Their escort was called Maddi, a fairly normal name, and she wore fairly normal clothes. Everything else about her was _insane_. Literally. She danced up onto the podium, and sang some really random song along the lines of a very different version of _Fashionista_ by an ancient pop-star called Jimmy James, replacing the words 'Fashionista' with 'Hunger Games'. (Check it out, it's real. It's by the Hillywood Show.) All in all, a little bit of an odd character. Anyways, so she sings her little melody, and then she gets on with it. Yippee. I can't wait. *sarcasm* Anyhow. "Let's a-go!" Maddi screams, sounding similar to a plumber in blue dungarees I can't place a name on. "Ladies are the best! Ladies go first!" She waltzes over to the girls' ball (literally – like a ballroom dance) and plunges a hand in that swirls around and around like a hand in a goldfish pond. However, if this was a goldfish bowl, the goldfish would have been knocked out from the great speed her hand was swirling. A single one flew up into the air, and she caught it with her other hand. She opened it up and said, "Diana Lìonerk," Hearing her friend's name called, Lauren looked up and, before she could stop them, the words were tumbling out of her mouth. "I volunteer." She moved through the path cleared by the others and came up to the microphone saying, "I, Lauren Simons, volunteer as tribute." A short silence followed this statement. Maddi smiled and said, "Hello there, Simon. Oh, no wait, sorry_ Lauren_." She laughed. Lauren grinned. The adrenaline was wearing off and she was feeling awful. "Let us proceed to... Drumroll please….. The boys' ball!" She did a salsa over to the boys' pedestal; her invisible partner giving her a twirl at the end in which she elegantly dips her hand into the ball and promptly killed the goldfish in there, before pulling out another one; which she called out, "Adam Rocketeer. Do I see an Adam Rocketeer?" Come on then." The Adam Rocketeer in question approached and Yoran saw he was a scrawny, straggler of a boy. Yoran was more muscular than him and held a better chance. So, with calculated thought, he called out, "I volunteer." He stepped up and repeated, like Laura, "I, Yoran Wamback, volunteer as tribute." Maddi giggled excitedly. "Tributes, shake hands please!" Yoran took Lauren's hand, the owner of whom had gone decidedly pale, and shook it in a firm and polite manner. The entered the Justice Building, and as soon as the doors were closed, Lauren collapsed. Yoran's quick reflexes caught her before she hit the floor, and gently laid her onto the ground, being forced to leave her to enter the room in which he'd have to say goodbye.


	4. District 3 Reaping

Inzilbeth**  
**Inzilbeth lived in one of the richer houses. Decorated with marble and gold leaf here there and everywhere, this house was reminiscent of the early (very early) Capitol. Inside, she picked up her solid silver hair brush and brushed her fine, brown hair which was shoulder-length, sighing as she gazed around her room. Her four poster bed was made of marble, with silk sheets and her room was decorated in all sorts of items. Her father was the owner of a loan company, which was owed money by 5 of the largest companies in District 3. The electronics produced by these five companies were bought up by the bucketful by the citizens of Panem, and every single drop of profit was taken by her father to pay their massive loans; hence they were very rich.

So, as I was saying, she was brushing her short brown hair. She stood up, smoothing her dressing-gown and re-positioning her tiara. She suddenly shouted, "Hey, peasant! The princess wants her high heels. The princess has requested the blue ones with the small pale blue bows on them. Fetch her them, NOW!" A servant scuttled down the stairs muttering to herself. She returned, giving her the shoes before bowing and saying, "Good day, your Highness," as she backed out of the room, still in the bow. [Inzilbeth thinks she's a princess. Her father indulges her in this dream, fantasy, call it what you like. Oh, this should be _interesting!_] Inzilbeth got up and found her favourite dress, a turquoise/blue design, medium-long, with a pattern of bubbles down the sides. It had more pleats in the darned thing than there are waves on a beach. And that's a lot. She slipped into it, zipping up the back with her perfectly manicured fingernails. She was incredibly smart, and she knew it; she had won the Chess Championships of District 3 more times than any adult.

She took the shoes that she had called for, and slipped them on. They fitted well. And so they should. They had been specially made for her from another District, no less. They were very expensive, and just one of them could have fed a poor family for three years. She looked into the mirror one last time, before going downstairs for her father to escort her to the boring Reaping. She never got picked, and never would be. Even if she was, a peasant would volunteer for her, knowing it would mean fame and fortune for their family. She got into their convertible, and drove off to the Reaping in a cloud of dust, smiling politely at all.

* * *

Feanor**  
**About three hours beforehand, Feanor was preparing for the Reaping as well. His family were not as rich as Inzilbeth's, preferring simplicity and peace instead of comfort and complexity. Simplicity certainly was there, but peace? Nah. At least not while Feanor's around. Feanor dislikes; no wait, detests his 2 half-brothers, maybe even hates them. As a result the household was nearly never peaceful. This particular afternoon had turned sour after Feanor had shouted at his half-brother Elwyn, who had forced Feanor to the ground and into a headlock, and then broken 3 of his ribs. His bones had broken and fused more times than he'd slept, so he was used to the pain. He stood, the pain receding, and realised that the Reaping was in a couple of hours. He knew he was the only child of the family left in the Reaping, the younger half-brother turned 18 a few weeks ago. He was handed a white shirt and blue tie with a black jacket and trousers. He went to his room and put them on. He had to admit, he looked quite nice. Feanor wasn't all weak and useless, he had to learn to stand up to his step-brothers and so was a little bit impetuous, doing things before he'd thought them through properly. As a result, he was selfish, and in trying to right some wrongs, he'd often ended up hurting others.

He picked up the small wire bracelet he'd made out of the scrap metal that litters the streets of District 3 like the leaves that litter the roads of District 11. He'd scavenged items to add to it, and he was incredibly proud of it. He was incredibly possessive, as demonstrated when the eldest step-brother stole that very bracelet, and Feanor turned around and punched him so hard he knocked him out, no mean feat, considering the man was well over twice his size. He then went on to attack his arms brutally with the nearest object, a laptop which was in an awful state, and even worse afterwards. The brother was practically no worse for the wear. He actually congratulated Feanor, telling him he should be proud. A lot had changed since Feanor's half-brother became the CEO of the biggest manufacturing firm in District 3. Not that they received money from it, yet. Feanor smiled at the new half-brother he had. However, the younger one had become even worse, and Feanor had to go so far as to stab him in the arm to tell him to leave him alone and stop stealing his stuff. It sort of helped. He smiled to himself, revelling in the memory. He stepped out into the street, listening to the crunch, crunch, crunch of the scrap metal and electronic parts. He made his way to the Reaping, slowly, taking his time to admire the scenery near his home. Living on the outskirts, he was one of very few of the people in the districts that saw the wild as it really was. A small squirrel bounded by, chattering to itself. He shook himself and glanced at a home-made watch that told not only the date, time, day of the week and altitude, but also the phase of the moon, approximate location and when he was to turn 17 and other important dates. He realised he was going to be late unless he got a shifty on. He ran, making it just before the entry was stopped. He breathlessly thanked them and ran to the 17 year old section. He calmed down just as the Reaping began.

* * *

Reaping  
One rather over-the-top Capitol escort by the name of Dendrite Hugo was standing impatiently at the microphone. He scratched his chin, accidentally moving his fluorescent beard. He put it back, and when finally cued to start, he said, "Okay. Hello there guys. Stupid Reaping again. Let's get it over with. Let's do ladies first." He strolled over to the ladies' Reaping ball, thrust a hand in, and picked up one piece of paper, unfolded it and said, "Inzilbeth Noults. Come on up, darling." Inzilbeth walked with all the grace of a princess. "WELL!" she roared, "Your Queen is going on a noble and valiant quest to distant lands to bring peace and prosperity to this country!" A silence followed this short speech, in which no-one spoke for a little while, although our friend Dendrite was wetting himself in silent laughter, whilst maintaining a straight face. A few seconds passed. "Well? Aren't you going to cheer for your beautiful Queen?" That was it. Great guffaws, little tittering laughs, childish giggles, they all came. Everyone was so worried about their own children, that all they did was laugh. Laugh and cheer. Cry and cheer, and giggle. After three or four straight minutes of laughter, they quietened. "Ah, okay then, let's… get the boy up here…" Dendrite was wheezing from laughing so much. He staggered over to the boys' Reaping ball, grabbed the first his fingers encountered and read it out. "Feanor Ampere? Please, do come on up." Feanor walked casually up, smiling at Inzilbeth, and then said, "Hey there. Unfortunately I'm not king, but I am lucky enough to be graced with the presence of our Queen. Thank you." A short cheer broke out. They both shook hands, Inzilbeth's softer than a baby's bum, and Feanor's more calloused and ridged and thick than your average piece of rhino hide. They were then frog-marched into the Justice Building.

**A.N. So, three districts up, who is your favourite so far?  
**


	5. District 4 Reaping

**A.N. I apologise that this district's chapter is pretty short. I couldn't specify much in these as I didn't have much to work with. Sorry :-(**

Lilia  
Lilia lay unconscious on the floor. A broken mirror lay nearby. Her room was dark and gloomy. She came around, looking at the mirror's cracks and smiled a horrific grin. She hated her looks, having an ugly scar from the top left of her forehead, trailing down to rest near her ear. She scowled. Putting on a black dress and long black boots, she was considered a Goth by most people. She picked up a sharp, double edged knife, flicked it, and peeled a layer of her skin off, from the top of her left forearm to the wrist. She began a gentle slicing motion, to make thin lines that crissed and crossed all over her arm in a grotesque form of body art. Swirls were added, and it was finished with a deep line down the whole length, deep enough to draw a lot of blood. She frowned in concentration as she did the opposite on the other side. She grinned, prepared, and let it dry. She stood, smiled, and left the room, went downstairs and then left the house to walk to the Reaping, ignoring the whispers of "It's her, the one with the scar, Lilia Pearl." and "There goes Lily's shadow." People disliked her for who she was, and Lilia didn't really care either way. She stuck out her finger to be tested and entered the Reaping grounds three hours early.

Kai  
Kai Bin sat in his room, chuckling. At 17, he was a highly attractive boy with a six-pack of which every drop he'd earned. He was a tease to the girls in District 4, with his great muscles and habit of wandering around topless. He was the best salmon tickler there was in District 4, knowing that, he got paid a lot for the fish he caught. Once he caught one by this method that was as large as him. He was also very good at fly fishing. His only weak point in fishing was trident diving. He scooped up his hand-crafted and home-made fly fishing rod and stroked its length. He smiled. It was one of his treasured possessions. He had a few of those. He couldn't wait to try out his new rod that he'd just made, out of the finest cedar wood around. He'd have to do that tomorrow, he thought, as it was the Reaping today. He sighed. Wearing his small beige waistcoat, white shirt and brown trousers with very dark green shoes, he looked somewhat like a miniature version of his late grandfather. He stood, unbuttoned his shirt slightly, and strolled downstairs. His sister greeted him. At 21, she was now a few years too old for the Hunger Games, but nonetheless was up bright and early to get her brother ready. Despite being 17, he was still pretty reliant on others. "Hello there, Kai. Good night's sleep?" his sister enquired. "Not bad. Looking forward to trying my rod down at the pond." His sister grinned. "That'll have to wait for tomorrow or after the Reaping. We've only got enough time to deal with those spiky golden locks of doom." She pointed to his hair. He glanced into a mirror. His hair resembled short sharp spikes that quite a lot of men gelled their hair for. "Aw, but I like my hair _au natural_. Please?!" His sister laughed. "No. It looks odd. If you do get Reaped, you don't wanna look like an idiot. I'll deal with it. Back in a second." She left the room, and allowed Kai to finish his breakfast in peace. She returned, and with an armful of combs, creams and lotions. A few minutes later, his hair was flat and normal-looking. He looked pretty good. "Nice!" Kai exclaimed when he saw. "Thanks!" his sister replied. "I left that bit there to cover that, that scar I accidentally did." He smiled gratefully in return and turned to leave the house to go to the Reaping.

Reaping  
Edenia Nadman thumped the microphone and said to the congregation, "Bloody reaping. Hope they pay me better this year. Edenia was a grumpy man indeed. "Get the poor lass done first. It'll be over quicker." He walked over to the girls' and pulled out the first he came to. "Lilia Pearl? Come on up here, my fair lass." Lilia strolled up and grumpily admitted she was Lilia Pearl. "Boys' next?" Edenia asked, walking over to the boys' ball. "Rhetorical question then?" Lilia muttered, which was picked up by the microphone. "Er, yes." Came the grumpy response. "Hellda Nukker?" Before Hellda could even take another breath, "I volunteer!" came. Directly from Kai Bin's mouth. He smiled. He knew he had better chances, and if he won, he'd be bathed in glory and riches and never have to work again. This was the life he wanted. This was his chance. He strolled up, shook hands with Lilia, and promptly entered the Justice Building. Lilia grumped in the hallway before being escorted to the room in which she'd say goodbye. Kai simply grinned, and walked amiably into his room, and making a grumpy face at Lilia's retreating back. "I saw that," she called back. He had a quiet chuckle. Things would be better than anticipated.


	6. District 5 Reaping

Nienna  
Nienna snuck down the stairs quietly. A scuffle under the floorboards made her freeze. She cursed under her breath. Or she tried to. When she is afraid, she does what goats do, and her legs lock in paralysis (Genuinely, it's true. Look it up on YouTube (it's hilarious)). She couldn't move for a few seconds, and then she squeaked forward to her living room, shy as anything. Her parents' smiled at her, not ignoring her, but not saying anything, as her face was paler than usual so they guessed something had made her jump. This was the problem with Nienna. At the age of seven, when she first went to school, the teachers believed she was deaf, and so she got taught NCDSL or National Capitol and Districts Sign Language; a very useful skill now. Nienna was not deaf, but absolutely terrified of _everything_. Literally. So much so that she had a condition that when something traumatic or even just meeting someone new happened, her throat would tighten like an invisible hand squeezing. She could not speak or breathe. She sat in silence, waiting for her breathing to calm and her heartbeat to slow. She took a few deep breaths and then asked her mother, "When's the Reaping?" Her mother smiled and replied, "In about an hour. Why?" Her daughter simply replied, "Just curious. What am I wearing?" Her father shrugged and looked to his wife. "Probably your red dress. Want me to go and get it?" Nienna nodded and quietly thanked him. Her mother looked right into Nienna's eyes and said clearly, "You're thirteen. You're gonna be fine, your name's only in twice. I know that little expression. Don't worry." She kissed her daughter's head and said, "Run along, your father's put your dress on your bed." She nodded. She stood and walked out of the room. When she returned, she was wearing a plain red dress with flat, sensible red shoes. She wore a gold necklace. "Oh, honey, that necklace looks beautiful on you!" her mother exclaimed. "Really? Thanks." Nienna replied meekly. "Shall we go?"  
"I'm ready when you are," was her mother's reply. "Daniel, we'll see you later!"  
"Okay honey. See you later Nienna."  
They left their house and walked to the square, Nienna's mother leaving her to go and view elsewhere, Nienna bravely sticking her finger out to be tested and going into the pen for her age group all by herself. She nervously waited for the rest of the people to arrive.

Valandil  
Valandil Telcontar was relaxing on his sofa, playing with a silver lighter he'd found, seemingly fascinated by the flickers of fire issuing from the lighter. He glanced to his left arm; a well-performed amputation had saved his life there. He was creative and also destructive. The creativity was always before the destructivity. He was feeling creative. He picked up a piece of wood from the stack beside the fire, and taking some lint from his pocket, he set fire, neatly and carefully, to the lint and wood, making a pretty and neat design. He blew it out, putting down the lighter and going upstairs to his room. His mother and younger brother were waiting for him. His mother handed him his clothes, kissed his head and left the room. He shrugged off his t-shirt and slipped on the white buttoned shirt. He struggled with the buttons so much that he asked Estel if he would help him. Estel grinned and said he would, doing them up with comparative ease. "You know, what's funny is that I'm nearly 15, and I still need help from a 12 year old!" Valandil said and Estel smiled "Will you help me get ready? It's my first year and…" Estel trailed off, a frown creasing his forehead. Valandil grinned and said, "Sure, I'm coming. I'm just gonna get changed." When he arrived, he simply searched his brother's drawers for something suitable, and came up with a blue shirt, red tie and brown trousers with black shoes. He watched whilst his brother put the shirt on, then reached over and did the tie with one hand for him. His brother slipped the trousers on, and Valandil did up his brother's shoes for him. When Estel was fully dressed, Valandil remarked, "You know, you look an awful lot like me, except you have all your limbs." Estel smiled and said, "You're lucky to have your life. Fire's dangerous, Valandil. You demonstrated that. Train fuel and a guy you love plus fire…" he dropped the subject. Valandil frowned and ran a hand through his flaming red hair which was medium-long, and his brother did the same. "Come on, muggins, we're gonna be late if we don't get moving." His brother stood and they left the house. As they began walking, a conversation sprang up. "Does it hurt much, the blood stamp?" his younger brother asked. "Not really," Valandil replied. "It's more of a prick, like when you catch yourself on a drawing pin or something. Then they turn your hand upside down, stamp it on this little bit of paper, scan it and then let you through. They only take a drop of blood." Estel nodded. "And when they get you in the pens, is it scary?" Valandil stopped. _Yes, it was scary, but telling him that won't help his nerves_, Valandil thought. "Err, I don't really know. If you were picked, yes of course it would be scary. But usually, no it's not too bad. A little like waiting to get your score for a test or something. It's usually boring. There's this pointless little video, which is interesting the first time you watch it, but after, it's just dull." His brother grinned. "So there's nothing for me to worry about?" Valandil shook his head. "Good." They'd reached the square by now, and Valandil went in front of Estel to show his brother what to do. He stuck out his finger, had it pricked, stuck it on the paper and waited for them to scan it and let him through. He waited patiently for his brother, who was very brave and did exactly as was asked, and hurried over to his brother afterwards. Valandil gave his brother a quick hug, walked him to the 12 year old section, and then walked himself to the 14 year olds section. He patiently waited for the Reaping to begin, already aware of the nervousness of his brother behind.

Reaping  
Pollyanna Bessten was standing awkwardly outside the Justice Building. The microphone wasn't working properly, so she was going to have to use a big megaphone. She hoped she wouldn't have to, but as she was cued to start, she picked up the large white and red megaphone, and pressed the button, somewhat like a trigger on a gun, and was surprised as her voice came out twenty times louder than normal. "HELLO THERE! WELCOME TO THE DISTRICT 5 REAPING!" She made herself jump, and Nienna, somewhere in the crowd, collapsed and fainted. She whispered into the megaphone, and eventually found equilibrium where she could be heard in a decent radius, not all over Panem. "Welcome to the Reaping. We will do ladies first this time." She crossed to the bowl, picked it up with one hand, placed the megaphone down on the reaping ball's stand, took out a wooden spoon, and stirred the bowl gently, attempting to make the whole lot fall out in one solid mass. Which she did, and placed the bowl below it in one fluid motion, and caught a straggler that caught the wind and missed its target. She returned the bowl and put away her spoon, opening the tiny folded piece of paper, and reading clearly, "Nienna Elbereth." Nienna, still passed out with shock, woke suddenly. She sat up, and was heaved up by another girl, pushed out of the pen, and forced to walk up the stairs, all too aware of the many pairs of eyes staring at her. She reached the top of the stage, and when Pollyanna asked who she was, Nienna opened her mouth, and nothing came out. Clutching her throat, she was unable to breathe. She quickly signed that she was Nienna, that she was not a volunteer, and that she needed to breathe, NOW! Pollyanna, not being a quick thinker, waved her arms frantically and wailed. How very useful. Meanwhile, Nienna collapsed to the floor. Nienna released her throat, hoping she could breathe now, but she couldn't. She lay on the ground for a while, still not being able to breathe, no-one moving or daring to help her. Whispers darted around from Nienna's family and few friends that no-one was to approach her and she was having a severe attack of anthropophobia. This message got passed onto Pollyanna, who translated for the cameras. Her relief was evident. "Well, whilst Nienna's recovering, I'll do the boy's ball." She walked over, grabbed the first available piece of paper, walked back, forgetting her stupid _mix-the-bowl-with-a-wooden-spoon_ routine, calling out the name in a clear voice, a voice that was telescoping farther and farther away from Nienna, a voice that said, "Valandil Telcontar." Valandil's brother's blood ran cold. "No!" he choked. "NO!" he shouted louder. Valandil began walking and glanced back. "I'll be fine, little brother. Just you see." He turned and walked up to Pollyanna, who greeted him with evident pleasure. "Hello there, Valandil." Valandil smiled and greeted her in return. Nienna, meanwhile, was calming down, and feeling better. She felt someone at her back, turned her head, and saw Valandil. She sighed, grateful, as he was one of her classmates. However, she still didn't know him well. He sat her up, shook her hand, and she was escorted in to the Justice Building where she was laid onto the couch to calm her breathing. Valandil was taken to his own room, glancing back at the girl. "_Typical," _he thought, _"That's girls for you, always passing out and_ fainting."

**A.N. Unfortunately, there might be a holdup on the next reaping as Bloodredfirefly has not entered both her tributes *cough* hurry up *cough. Sorry!**


	7. District 6 Reaping

**A.N. So! Bloodredfirefly has given me the other tribute, thanks! I'm writing this fast, so sorry in advance for spelling errors etc. I'll shut up now. On with the show!**

* * *

Karoli

"Christian! Please get off my foot." Christian shot off her foot obediently, clutching his Snuggle Bunny protectively. "Go play with Sadie." Karoli ordered in a surprisingly authoritative voice.

"Sadie's boring!" Christian whined. "She's three; she's no fun."

Karoli sighed. "I don't want to hear you talk like that. Family comes first. One day you could not spending every minute of your life with her. Now go play with her."

Christian sighed and walked dejectedly over to Sadie, who was cutting out paper people in a chain. "Where's Mommy?" Sadie asked Karoli quizzically.

"She's working. Sorry hun, but me, Christian, Choir and Marcus are all you got." Choir, hearing her name, glanced up hurriedly.

"Did you need me?"

Karoli smiled at her sister. "No, just telling Sadie 'bout where Mom is." Choir nodded, returning to patching a pair of thick work trousers.

Marcus approached Karoli from behind, wrapping his only arm affectionately around her. His other he'd lost when a machine exploded; also crippling his leg.

"I wish I could help! I hate this stupid disability. If only I could help out around the house I could actually be useful!" Marcus lamented.

Karoli turned around and looked her brother in the eye fiercely.

"Marcus, you're not useless! I wouldn't be here, and neither would these two, if you hadn't been here for me, to tell me how to look after us and cook and manage money and all that. You are helpful! The kids adore you; they'd be devastated if they thought you didn't like them. And besides, you're a much better cook than I am, even though you eat half of the food when I'm not watching." Karoli winked at him.

"Thanks, sister.I'll go cook dinner, so we can have cold ham when we return." Marcus said, patting her fondly on the back.

"Yeah, and make sure you're cooking, not eating!" Karoli called indignantly after the limping figure. "Sure," he replied; and Karoli could hear the smile in his voice.

Karoli returned to the two children, who were now squabbling on who could use the colouring pencils. Being the only truly capable child in the house was hard enough; she had her hands full almost all of the time. Her mother worked as a paper filer in a small firm, in a building an hour's walk away. The hours were long; and the wages pitiful. Her father on the other hand, worked as a porter, one of the lowest paid jobs available. He had a lung disease that was curable, only it cost more than the whole family being sold into slavery, plus the house and assets combined.

She brushed the thoughts off of her mind. She separated the two complaining kids, rushed upstairs to make their beds and to wake her parents, who could only sleep in short stints. Once she had done that, she heard shouting downstairs.

She walked down. They were now whining about who dropped the box of glitter. She swept up the glitter with a dustpan and brush, returning the scant, cheap glitter to its box; and putting the box on a high shelf. "Look, you two are big now. You can play with your toys for an extra hour today if you are on your best behaviour throughout the Reaping."

The two quickly ceased their argument, the promise of a mystical extra sixty minutes of fun the only bribery needed. She laid out some clothes for them and then changed herself. She left her brother to feed the two monsters and left to the Reaping; her brother was not attending because according to Capitol records, he was deceased. Every Reaping, he hid in the cellar, in what ancient civilizations called a priest hole.

Choir walked silently next to her. They entered the grounds and waited patiently for the rest of the people to file in.

* * *

Adam

Adam struggled over the workbooks, quickly becoming distressed. He desperately wanted to do better. However, when he was at school and was surrounded by what could only be described as hunks of meat that spoke monosyllabic vocabularies, it was a little daunting to raise his hand.

He looked up at the clock. It was nearly time to leave for the Reaping. He stood, sweeping the books from his desk into his satchel. He walked downstairs where he was swept into a tight embrace by his mother, who was far too clingy for his tastes.

He called to his father, "Dad, will you walk up with me to the Reaping? I don't wanna be late." His father agreed, and his mother began whining that she'd take him, which his father silenced with a loud cough.

"Come on, let's go." Taking his son, he walked out and into the street.

"She gets on my nerves a little," Adam admitted, breaking the silence.

"And she got on my heart, that's why I fell in love with her." Adam's father sighed. "She was one of those kids that never got the answer wrong, who was always the one that got straight A's every single time. Now I was one of those that never got anything higher than D, yet somehow she fell for me. I like to think it was my looks, but maybe not. I don't think I passed them down."

He guffawed. Adam had to admit, he was right. He wasn't much to look at. Faded green eyes, with raggedy clothing that hung off him, his brown hair bleached by the sun. He looked at his reflection in a puddle; then stepped in it.

They walked on. Adam's father crouched, pointing to a shrub in a corner. "See that? That's a grey jay." Adam squinted into the dull shrub and couldn't see it at all; until the shrub wiggled and he saw the small grey bird, twittering madly. It flew off, and they walked on, talking about the bird.

Once they arrived in the square, father and son separated and Adam walked to enter the Reaping; whilst his father left to the screens outside.

* * *

Reaping

Marla Kipatchzil waited casually, swinging her arms gently. She was more of a District character than a true Capitol character, as she resented the Games and had none of the ridiculous Capitol accent benders. Really, she was from District 6. Her real name was Mara Hind, but no Escort would ever get by on such a normal name.

"Let's get this over with," she muttered to herself after she had been cued to start.

She fished around in the girl's bowl, praying that she wouldn't turn into one of those escorts who always picked the really tragic kids.

She pulled out a slip of paper. "Please be an eighteen year old six foot muscle machine with no family" she thought.

"Karoli Hind!"

The name rang a bell, a distant bell in her mind.

Hind. _Hind._

Oh god no. No. It couldn't be. Had she just Reaped her own family?

She could barely stand, but she managed to somehow stagger over to the boys' ball and tried to avoid eye contact with the traumatised girl who was hysterical as she mounted the stage.

"Adam What's-his-name! Adam Kired!"

Out in the crowds, Adam's reaction was almost indescribable. After all those years of being bullied, picked on, intimidated- and now he was to enter the arena, where 23- well, 22 since the Karoli girl looked nice enough- where 22 fully grown, trained bullies would be dead set on killing him. The wallflower who had been picked.

Just my luck, thought Marla as she ferried the two tributes into the Justice Building. The odds aren't in their favour, but neither are they in mine.

**A.N. I wish to thank peace and joyce for rewriting the plot a lot. Thanks buddy! ^-^**


	8. District 7 Reaping

Summer  
Summer Brooks was sitting trailing her feet lazily in the stream that ran naturally through their back garden.

She looked at the rows and rows of perfectly planted trees in front of her back yard, ranging from mahogany (calm, Effie, calm) to cedar, to oak, to pine, to yew, all varieties of trees thought to be even possible.

Summer was short, only 4' and very timid. Not as timid as Nienna, of whom we've already met, but still very timid. She lived further into the woods and countryside of District 7 than most of the people, and so she was at one with nature. She hated the suburbs.

She heard almost silent footfalls behind her, and she tensed. Spinning around, she glanced at the bushes and other things behind her. "Hello, Rift. How are you?" Rift sprung up and frowned.

"I'm losing my knack."

Summer laughed. "No, just becoming more predictable."

Rift looked confused. "You're only twelve, how can you have caught on to my fifteen year old predictability?"

"Easily."

"No way, ho-say."

"Yes. It's not too difficult."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. Really."

"Okay, whatever."

Summer smiled. "Yeah, Mr I'm-So-Cool-I'm-Fifteen, take that!"

Rift sprung around like a… spring.

"Oi!"

He ran over to her and pushed her into the cold water and they splashed each other, having fun and laughing. "Careful, I'm mini!" she cried out.

He had sat on her legs and was tickling her, making her gasp for air and occasionally fall down under the water level. He pulled her up, grinning. "Sorry, Summer, it wasn't intentional." She coughed and cleared her throat. "Ha ha. We're all ok. But it's payback time." She created the mother of all tides which she shot at him.

"Whoa-" He was almost overpowered. _Almost_. He stood again, water cascading off him like he was Poseidon. "We've gotta go," Rift said. "It's nearly time for the Reaping, you know."

She nodded. "It's the first time for me. I'm scared, Rift. I mean, I'm usually scared of practically everything, but I'm _really_ scared this time." Now it was Rift who nodded.

"So was I, at your age. Terrified I would get Reaped. I'm still here today." He smiled. "Let's go get ready."

She held his hand and went inside to change from their wet clothes into dry, somewhat more formal attire. They walked to the Reaping square, and Summer stuck her finger out and got her blood-stamp over with. Then it was Rift's turn. They left to their pens and simply waited for the Reaping to start.

* * *

Christopher  
Christopher Birch relaxed on the sofa, listening to the idle chatter of his younger brother and sister, Tristan and Sasha. They were discussing what their favourite toys were. Tristan was gunning for the axe and tree set that fell over when you swung the axe at it hard enough; and Sasha was going for the baking set.

Tristan whined, "Chris! Which is better, the axe and tree set or Sash's stupid baking thing?" Chris laughed and said, "Apologize, Tristan, please. Then I'll say." Tristan begrudgingly apologized, and then sat on Chris' lap whining. "So, which is it? Tell meee!" Chris replied, "I don't know." Sasha nodded firmly, and Tristan regarded the debate to be over. Chris stood and immediately the two seven and eight year olds had stood and were firmly attached to his legs. "Hey, Mum, can I have a hand? I need to get ready."

Nicole, their mother, poked her head around the door, and saw his predicament. She laughed, removed the two squirming children from his legs and said, "Go get ready, honey. Sixteen, and still unable to deal with two seven and eight year olds." She shook her head, grinning. He smiled back, kissed his brother and sister on the head, and departed to go get ready.

When he returned, wearing a plain white shirt and black trousers with trainers, his mother had managed to get Tristan into a small pair of brown shorts and a blue shirt, and was wrestling Sasha into a pale yellow dress with a little bow on the front. She succeeded, saying to Chris to keep an eye on them whilst she was gone. He did, and they crawled onto his lap, begging for a story.

Chris told them a short one about a lumberjack who met a woodchuck, and asked how much wood a woodchuck could chuck, or even if it could chuck wood. The woodchuck sighed and said it got asked a lot, and replied he didn't know. "He shook hands with the lumberjack, who to this day still wonders how much wood could a woodchuck chuck, if a woodchuck could chuck wood." Chris finished.

Sasha asked him, "How much wood _can_ a woodchuck chuck?" Chris replied he didn't know. Sasha nodded. His mother and father returned, and picked up both of the younger children and said to Chris, "Ready to go?" Chris nodded, and they walked to the square in time for the reaping, Chris entering the square alone.

* * *

Reaping  
Michaela Sparkwaltzer waited for the technician to cue her to begin, and she tensely fiddled with her bubble-gum pink corkscrew hair. When she was cued, she smiled gaily and said, "Welcome to the District 7 Reaping. We usually do girlies first, so let's keep up the tradition."

She stuck her hand into the reaping ball and returned. "Oh, summer. I like summer. Anyway, I'm looking for one Summer Brooks please. Do I see a Summer Brooks? I do! Come on up then, don't be shy!" Summer felt faint. At 12, she had been picked. Panicky, she looked at her brother, fear evident in her eyes. He nodded tensely, and told her to walk up the aisle and go to Michaela.

She felt like crying. She slowly, stiffly, walked to the front. "I'm Su- Summer Brooks," she admitted shakily. "I'm twelve."  
"Lovely to meet you, Summer." Michaela put a comforting arm around Summer; and she felt safer somewhat, knowing that this woman was protecting her. "I'll just do the boys now, won't be a second." The comforting arm left her, as the woman crossed and took a piece of paper at random.

She returned, and said clearly, "Christopher Birch? Chris Birch? Do we have a Christopher Birch here?" Chris, hearing his name, looked up, and strode towards the front in a polite manner. "I'm Christopher, or Chris, Birch. I'm sixteen." Christopher's gaze darted from the woman in front of him to the girl cowering behind her. He whispered quietly, "I'll protect you." She reminded him of Sasha, only a little older than her.

He'd most likely never see Sasha and Tristan grow up. He held out his hand for the formal handshake, and she took it, shaking his firmly. He put an arm around her as they were escorted into the Justice Building, where Summer's legs felt like they were made of marshmallows. She walked into her room, sat down and tried to not let the tears roll down her face.

* * *

**A.N. Marshmallow legs? Anyway, seventh Reaping up! Hope you all like it!  
**

**-Happiness and Hamsters**


	9. District 8 Reaping

Lya  
Amelia Holden - crouched underneath a massive roll of plain fabric - was struggling to breathe.

"She's over here!" A shout echoed from the left corner of the fabric warehouse she was in.

She barely dared to breathe. She lay flat on her chest, crawled beneath an unbelievably tight gap between the floor and a roll of pink fabric with glitter on it. The glitter, which had not stuck properly, cascaded down onto her, covering her head-to-toe in a glittery, sparkly mess.

She silently cursed, hearing them nearby. "Oh s***," one boy said, "We're gonna be late for the f*****g Reaping if we don't get a move on."

They others voiced words of agreement. "If she's late, she'll get the huge fine. We don't want the huge fine." They all fled the warehouse, allowing Lya to exit from the glittery roll's confines. The glitter preferred her clothes, and skin; no matter how hard she tugged, she couldn't get it off.

That would be fun, Reaping, here I come, she thought miserably. She had to scratch a small space in the glitter for the blood-stamp, which she managed with limited success. However, she was allowed entry, and she hurried to a space where she wouldn't get everyone else covered in glitter.

A few odd stares came her way, and the boys who were chasing her were positively wetting themselves. She waited, ignoring the odd stares, desperately hoping the Reaping would start soon.

* * *

ST  
ST relaxed on his bed, already in Reaping uniform. He was the middle child of 5, the three in the middle being the only eligible ones in the family.

He wore a purple t-shirt and green shorts with white socks and brown sandals.

He had ended up with the excess clothing that didn't fit other people, and so had a very tasteful wardrobe. *sarcasm* His mother was head of Quality Control at one of the men's clothing factories, and sometimes bought the items that failed the Capitol's strict Quality Control guidelines, giving them to the others in the family; but as he was the middle, he inevitably got second- or third- and occasionally fourth- and fifth-hand clothing from other families.

He sighed. "ST!" his mother called, "We need to go, come on!" ST stood, went downstairs and met his two elder brothers and younger sisters, Dean and Peter and also Hattie and Demelza.

Hattie and Peter were dressed in similarly tasteful clothing. Dean was wearing a suit (he had one from his job) and Demelza was wearing a small pink dress. They all headed off to the reaping, and one by one stuck their finger under the pin for the blood-stamp. ST noted glitter on the edge of the needle for him and wondered how it got there. They all filed in and the reaping started.

* * *

Reaping  
Sandra Black began the reaping with a rather dramatic sneeze attack. Once she recovered, she staggered over to the ladies reaping ball, and picked one at random.

She took it out, and returned to the microphone. "Women…? Amelia Holden. Where's Amelia Samina Holden?" Somewhere in the crowd, the glittery figure cursed. _Trust my luck_, she thought miserably. She began to walk up, ignoring the funny stares the glitter-girl got.

When she arrived, Sandra asked, "What in the name of the Lord gave you such great fashion sense?" Lya sighed and replied, "It's a long story." Sandra smiled and said, "I think we'll become good friends."

When Sandra crossed to the other side, Lya rolled her eyes. She retrieved a boys' name, opened the paper and read, "Stephen-Tim Carter?" ST sighed. Everyone knew his secret now, his ridiculous name. He took a deep breath, and went to join the glittery blob up on the stage.

"Hello, Stephen-Tim," said Sandra. "Actually it's ST," replied ST, miffed.

"Sorry, ST." Sandra replied, genuinely sorry. "Tributes; shake hands." ST grasped Lya's glittery hand, and shook it, causing a cascade of gold and silver glitter to fall off and collapse to the ground. They entered the Justice building, and Amelia resigned herself to waiting until she was on the train to try and scrub it off.

ST said, "Nice to meet you, Amelia. What do you prefer, Mimi, Amelia, Melon? Something really random?" She laughed. "I prefer Lya. Nice to meet you too, ST."

ST laughed and said, "I guess the glitter was unintentional?"

Lya thought for a while before saying, "Yes, but it's a long story."

ST asked, "How long? Tell me on the train if you wish."

Lya nodded and said, "Be seeing you around."

They entered into their separate rooms and waited.


	10. District 9 Reaping

Sabrina  
Sabrina Hzyleva was slouching on a couch that was shaped like a hay bale with a sheaf of corn at the back and either end. A very cheap and tacky sofa in a cookie-cutter house for the grain growers that was Sabrina's home.

She was drawing, 'letting her creative juices flow' as her father would have said. Thinking about her father reminded her of the silver bracelet he'd given her before he'd had his accident.

She reached for it but it wasn't on her wrist. She began to panic, wondering where it was. She calmed, knowing she could ask her friends if they'd seen it. Lauren and Mickey would find it, she mused. They'd definitely be Hufflepuffs if they went to Hogwarts. Ancient Literature gives peace and calm once again. Like Shakespeare, if you can understand any of it. But anyway. Back to Sabrina. She had been sketching since she wore nappies, and it was one of the few things in life she understood and enjoyed.

Her dark hair hung over her face, hiding her expression, neutral as usual. She was sketching her family, and had done so successfully. She added her pet cat Skittles and her mother's bird, Whistle. She then faintly sketched in her father, resting his arm around her mother and hugging her, his daughter. Of course, he wasn't there, so she rubbed him out, her expression flickering from sadness to neutral, as she tried to contain her emotions.

Her mother came in and saw the half-finished picture, and the echo of her husband, Erik. "Sabbie," (her mother's pet name for Sabrina) "Sabbie, we need to go. It's the Reaping, remember." Sabrina nodded. She didn't say anything. She stood and went upstairs, returning wearing a mint green dress that complimented her dark hair well. She fished a dark green ribbon out of her pocket and tied her hair up with it. She smiled, holding her hand out for her mother to take. She did, and they walked to the square in silence.

She stuck out her finger, waited impatiently for the blood-stamp, and then walked to the pen of her age group.

* * *

Arlen  
Arlen Beyett dozed peacefully on their couch, a similar one to Sabrina's, except that the design was not of corn sheaves, but of bread loaves, sitting on one flattish loaf and loaves for the back and sides.

"Arlen, get up."

Arlen still dozed.

"Arlen, get up!" his mother shoved his shoulder.

"N'gg'wy, le'm'lone." Arlen mumbled.

"Arlen, last warning, get up now."

Arlen sat up, rubbed his eyes and was ready to go back to sleep, when he was hauled upright, and marched out of the house. "We're going to be late! We can't afford the fine. Walk faster!"

"Okay, chill. It is fine, we've got three minutes."

"Three minutes?! That's not okay!" She tugged her son to begin running.

"It's fine. We're here now."

"No thanks to you."

"Goodbye, Mum."

Arlen stuck out his finger to get tested, and ran through to get to his place, just in time, as the Reaping began.

* * *

Reaping  
Nadia Richards posed herself a question. "Boys' or girls' first? Hmmm. Girls'? Yes, good idea." She walked over to the girls' ball and fished around in it for a name. She glanced at it.

**SABRINA HYZLEVA**

_"Oh dear. Why do I always pick the ones with odd surnames?"_ she thought miserably.

"Saybreenah Hezedelehvah? Sabrina, that bit's right, Sabrina Hissleyvah? Sabrina Hiylezzah?"

Sabrina finally shouted in annoyance, "It's HYZLEVA!"

She stomped irritably up to the stage.

"It's Sabrina Hzyleva, okay?"

Nadia nodded. "Sorry, _Sabrina._"

The words were said mockingly, not as if she was sorry at all.

"Let's do the boys' then."

She walked over to the boys' ball and picked one at random. She returned, reading out the name in a sing-song voice.

"Arlen? Arlen Beyett?"

Arlen looked up and saw that Nadia was looking for him.

He sighed, and walked up, arms folded, grumpy.

"Hello there, Arlen"

"Humph."

"Oh." Nadia faltered. "Tributes; shake hands."

Arlen grumpily shook hands with Sabina, who returned the grumpy glare.

They entered the Justice Building, still looking grumpy at each other. Once in her own room, Sabrina had a short laugh and then became serious.

_This is it. You're in, no going back. There was no chance of going back to start with though..._


	11. District 10 Reaping

Colleen  
Colleen Reyna was writing notes in a book, doodling in the margin and pretending to really, she was somewhere else.

She was on a beach, relaxing, and then she got up and just did whatever she wanted to do, dancing and playing in the sea and drawing and expressing herself creatively.

She liked that daydream. She was plunged back to the day itself by the sun catching a mirror in her room, making her wake up from the fantasy to get it out of the way. She caught the cloth covering her most recent piece of art, and she pulled it off for a while to admire the painting.

It was of her favourite place, a little lagoon where a small waterfall ran down and into a natural spring. It was always pleasantly cool, never too cold, or too hot. There was lush vegetation all around it. It was only a short trek away from the edge of District 10, and the others in the district would never discover it, she was the only one fit enough to climb a sheer wall to get up to it, and even if they were fit enough, place one wrong foot, and because the rock was crumbly you'd tumble to either an incredibly painful fall, or if you rolled, an even more painful death.

She had painted it realistically, with the water reflection reflecting the plants around it. The sky was clear without a cloud in it. She liked the painting. Sadly she had to do it in secret, as her mother didn't approve of art. Her father was dead, but she was told he loved art. That would have been nice. She wished he was still alive.

He'd been killed by a stampede of cattle. She sighed, and covered the artwork again. She saw her mother had laid some clothes out for her to wear to the Reaping; a white blouse with a cream shirt and pink skirt.

She slipped them on, and popped a pair of green pumps with bows on the front on and then she went downstairs, viewing the carnage in the living-room coolly. Austin and Emilia were wrestling in a friendly manner, Dustin was watching interestedly. Lacey, Richie and Tansy were waiting for her. She was told by Lacey that Cole had gone to the toilet.

Her mother poked her head around the door. "Austin! Emilia! Stop fighting! You're nineteen, Austin. Grow up. Emilia, at eighteen you're not much better. You ought to go get ready for the Reaping."

Emilia left the room, Austin followed.

Her mother said, "You five, I'm afraid I can't take you to the Reaping, I'm busy on herd stampede watch. Can you walk there yourselves?" Colleen looked at her friends and nodded to them.

They nodded back. "We'd be able to manage, Mrs Reyna." said Tansy politely. "Yeah, we're fine." added Richie. Her mother looked relieved.

"Thank goodness. I know you're all- How old are you? I know Colleen's 16," she trailed off.

Colleen said, "Lacey's 17, though she doesn't act it-" Lacey gave a disgruntled sniff. "Tas, Tansy to you, is 16, Cole's 17 as well and Richie's 14. The baby of the pack."

She smiled and hugged Richie who frowned but hugged her back. "Oh good. You're old enough to look after yourselves. See you later." her mother replied. Colleen nodded and together with Tansy, Lacey, Richie and Cole set off for the Reaping.

* * *

Jesse  
Jesse Weft was relaxing with his pals listening to Niko's music player. He didn't really mind what they were doing, so long as he could be a part of it. He lay back on the brick wall he was sat on, staring into the sky.

He was enjoying himself, hearing both the music coming from the player, but also the sounds of nature.

"Jay? Earth to Jay, are you receiving?"

Jesse sat bolt upright and asked, "What? What's up? What's wrong?"

Seeing the worried look on Jesse's face, they all laughed. Seften chuckled, "Cool it Jay, it's no big deal. It's the Reaping is in an hour according to Anne's watch; not that anyone really cares."

Jesse relaxed. "Yeah, but there's the fine to deal with isn't there? After all, good looks such as those before me don't always pay the bills."

A great deal of laughter followed this, and Jesse looked confused. "Did I really say what I thought I said?"

A few nods and soon Jesse was laughing and giggling like everyone else.

"Why did you say that?" asked Anne, the only girl in the group. "I mean, really, why? I didn't know you liked me."

Jesse blushed and said nothing, hoping he wouldn't have to expand. Noting his blush she nodded.

"Wefty! Wassup?"

A man called from across the street.

"Gary! Great we could see you! Come on over! How've you been?" Jesse called.

Gary walked over and replied that he was fine, and that he was on the way to the reaping.

"I saw you guys and I was totally like, 'Any friend of Jesse is a friend of mine' so I came on over. Nice to see you all."

His friends nodded politely and when he left they broke out into quietly whispered conversations. Niko and Seften were talking next to the music, and Jesse could only pick out words of their conversation, and tried to stop eavesdropping altogether.

He stood, told the gang he was heading to the Reaping early, unbuttoned his shirt slightly as he was getting a little warm, ran down the hill and stopped at the bottom, feeling cooler.

He entered the square, seeing there were a lot of people here for it being so early, glanced at his own watch and saw that Anne's watch was an hour slow.

They would be late, but there was nothing he could do to help them now. Sticking out his finger to get the blood-stamp done with, he ran to the seventeen-year old section, calmed his breathing and waited for the Reaping to begin.

* * *

Reaping  
Kylie Snowdrop swung her legs gaily along the bottom of the stage. She was only sixteen, but had a rather fun job, compared to some of the others.

She quietly tapped the microphone and had to adjust it, as it was a little high.

"Hi there! I'll try and do this as fast as possible, and I'll do girls first, 'cause I'd be like, totally terrified right now if I was you." Kylie sang.

She skipped to the ball, sighed as it was difficult to reach, took a wooden step ladder and used it to get to the ball, picking one from right at the bottom.

She retrieved it, skipped back and said, "Colleen Reyna? Gosh, what a funny name. Colleen, come on up please."

Colleen walked with her head held high, no fears within them and confidently stated she was Colleen, and she _liked_ her name, thank you very much. Kylie thanked her, feeling very short, as she was younger than the girl in front of her, or it sure felt like it.

She crossed to the boys' ball, finding the ladder to be there already, she climbed up it and picked one from the middle to bottom.

She returned and said, again, "Niko Maremilk. We are getting odd names here, aren't we?"

Jesse realised the awful predicament his friend was in. He wasn't even here. If Jesse volunteered, he'd save his friend from the reaping fine, and that would save his friend's family. But he'd die. He weighed up the risks and decided that saving nine children and two adults was better than just him. Heart thudding, he took a deep breath.

He shouted out, "I volunteer!" He stepped out, and walked up to the stage, repeating the words as he had (not) seen others do before him. "I volunteer as tribute, my name is Jesse Weft." Kylie squealed. "Nice to meet you, Jesse. You're cute." she added. "Oh yeah, shake hands, guys."

The two shook hands. Entering the Justice Building, Jesse felt his cheeks redden. He entered the room in which he'd say goodbye, cursing his stupidity.


	12. District 11 Reaping

Takako  
Takako Tower was lazily relaxing by the orchard boundaries; she spotted a boy taking apples.

She whipped out a Capitol camera and took a photograph, glaring at the screen to identify it. With those thick eyebrows, afro and thin body, it was unmistakeably Garret Madi.

The fine for stealing apples was either death, or if you were eligible for the Reaping, being the only name in the ball of your gender. Basically, an almost certain guarantee of death. Not pleasant.

But anyway, she sent the image and identification to the Capitol, and in return received 10,000 Panem Dollars. Enough to feed her growing family for several months, and also to clothe them and keep them healthy.

She grinned. Being a Capitol spy was worth it. Sure, friends were hard to come by, but if there was a choice between friends or food, she'd choose food any day. Living and being hated was preferable to being popular yet dead.

Unfortunately, three came a point where they became no longer useful, as everyone knew who they were and would check if they were around before committing illegal deeds. That had happened to her three elder brothers.

She had four younger siblings who were next in the line of Tower spies. Another person, a man this time, picking apples, however, he was in worker uniform. Still, she watched him, followed him to the border of the orchard, where he removed the overalls, and made a break for it.

A quick snap; and this time 20,000 Panem Dollars, as he was also performing the act in the clothes of another; therefore he must have coerced them to take part. So two people were sentenced to death at her hand today.

She sighed. Living this way was hard, but letting her family survive was important. She wouldn't hang around Orchard 59 for a few months now.

Takako glanced at her watch. Nearly time for the Reaping. That boy would have his name in the Reaping ball an estimated 120,000 times. She cringed. _She_ really wouldn't want that to happen to her. _She_ preferred to watch the other people do the nasty deeds.

She smiled. Problems only occurred when a group of people came on her, backing her into a corner; that was when she was forced to defend herself; fighting her way through the angry relatives and friends, and the occasional victim that had survived the Hunger Games, somewhat rare though.

She hurried out of the boundary to change out of the clothes that were now coated in mud, leaves, sticks and fertilizer. She took a selection of clothing that was suitably 'boyish' but not like she genuinely was a boy. Otherwise there's gonna be a very confused Capitol if she got picked.

Wearing blue jeans, trainers and a shirt with an apple logo on it; the fruit, not the odd variety from District 3. She walked to the square; hair tucked back, and then stuck her finger out, entering the pen of her age group.

* * *

Garret  
Garret Madi cursed. He'd heard the flash of a camera behind him, unmistakeably Capitol. It was all 's going to become Capitol entertainment.

Wonderful. He fled, whispering a warning to his father who was thieving apples in his friend's work hoped he wouldn't be caught too. His mother would be devastated to lose him, let alone his father as well. Or maybe he wouldn't. Maybe it was too late for them to create all the slips with just his name.

He might get off scot free. Unlikely, but a hopeful chance. He sighed. Apple thieving had become his way of life. He'd never been caught before, but if he did win, he could thieve all the apples he wanted, and intimidate the girl who caught him whilst he was at it.

He grinned. He looked at the grimy glass clock tower and couldn't read the ran into his house, changed and then ran full speed down to the square.

Early was better than late, he thought miserably. He skidded to a halt sticking his finger out for the blood stamp, thanking the people there breathlessly. They looked at him as he ran in to his age group pen, just in time.

* * *

Reaping  
Adam Henderson waited patiently for the Reaping to begin. The most patient, and most alcoholic of all the Capitol representatives, he was proud to be one of only a handful of male representatives.

When cued to start, he smiled a faithful smile, opened his mouth and vomited. When he was done, he stood, smiled his little smile, walked over to the girls' ball, said, "Girls first."

He then walked back, opened the paper, and read, "Sausages, beer, wine, bacon, cocktails, alcoholic tea cakes, oh wait, that's my shopping list." That's an old joke, dude. He put it away, and then took the actual piece of paper, opened it up, and read, "Takako Towers."

Takako looked up, and cursed audibly. Very audibly. She walked up and said irritably, "Yes, I'm Takako Tower, get a move on. The sick's starting to smell."

Adam nodded and staggered to the boys ball. He picked one at random, Takako knowing what would be written on it before he even opened it up.

"Garret Madi." Garret sighed. Evidently there was enough time. Capitol paper printers need only ten seconds to print 120,000 pieces of paper. _Obviously._ He sighed.

They shook hands with each other, Takako's hands smoother than Garret's yet less skilful. They entered the Justice building and prepared to say goodbye.


	13. District 12 Reaping

**A.N. Last Reaping. Wahoo! I'm getting bored with writing these, but hopefully they won't bore you. _Hopefully._**

* * *

Peach  
Glaring at her reflection in the grimy mirror, Peach scowled.

With her short, uneven blonde haircut and blue eyes that are equally ready to dance with excitement or burn with passion, yet still calm; Peach still scowled. She glared at her long legs and long torso. She felt like a Coastal Redwood, or even Mount Everest, everything seemed so far away.

Much alike Lilia, she hated herself, she hated the world. Her hair was uneven for the fact she had cut it when she was 11. Her mother shrieked in horror at the new look; and so then Peach kept it for the next 4 years.

She smirked at her reflection. Her face then lost the smirk, to be replaced with the trademark neutral expression as she looked down.

Her paper white skin (exaggerated _slightly_) seemed to go on for miles. She looked at her reflection again; her eyes turning steely as she frowned in anger. Her already narrow eyes narrowed further, making her look even more skeptical than normal.

She roared, swinging at the mirror with all her might. It shattered, leaving a spiderweb of patterns in the mirror back. She pushed them, and they fell, shattering even more onto the floor. She huffed, satisfied, leaving her mother to clear up the remains of the mirror.

She left to her room, slamming the door behind her. She shoved on whatever was lying on her ed and went downstairs again, blanking family members and walking to the Reaping alone.

Once she was there, the bored Capitol technicians pulled her finger impatiently and jabbed the needle deeply into her skin. She smiled hard. A large drop of blood formed on her finger, which they turned upside down and stamped on the paper.

She was allowed through, and she walked to the 15 year old section and shoved and pushed people, walking over those smaller than her.

"Hey, Long Legs! Mind where you're going!"

Peach whirled around, nostrils flaring.

"What did you call me?"

Rage filled her heart as she strode over to the girl of average height.

"I knew it'd get your attention. Now, you're hurting people and-"

The girl spoke no more as Peach simply kicked her and then walked over her, expression neutral; however her eyes were still flashing dangerously and had regained their steely glare.

"-trampling over them all. Please stop." the girl finished, and fell over in a dead faint.

Peach ignored this and stared forward. She waited impatiently for the Reaping to begin.

* * *

Jordan

Jordan looked across to the scene being acted out before his eyes in the fifteen year old section. Two girls fighting. The boys in his pen were murmuring about it. He drew his attention away from the fight.

His mind wandered to Lily and Beckett, his two siblings. Beckett was his elder brother; man of the house as Beckett used to say. He supplied the family with food, warmth, a home. Somewhere to stay when the darkness enclosed was so optimistic, he would nightly tell them the quote that became Jordan's motto,

_"It's always darkest before the dawn."  
_

Jordan liked that quote. Jordan adopted it one day after the death of his brother. Beckett stole from the rich people to feed and clothe the family.

But one night, sneaking into the Mayor's house to thieve silverware, the mayor's son was still awake. Beckett was confronted by the boy, a tough, rude and unkind fellow who had rubbed Beckett up the wrong way more than once. He was knocked out, and when he awoke again, he was in prison. Sentenced to death.

Only two months after the passing of Beckett, Lily fell ill. A common cold, but it mutated and spiraled out of control. Raging fevers, coughing, sickness, everything. She died shortly after. He looked up as the microphone was thumped loudly.

* * *

Reaping

Charlotte, or Charlie, Mittlebrauner relaxed and said, "Welcome. The District 12 Reaping is in progress. Ladies first!" She strolled over to the ladies ball and picked one. She returned and said profoundly, "Peach Fowell. May I have dear Peachy up on the stage?"

Peach's gaze shot up, and she shrieked, "DON'T CALL ME THAT!" She ran up to the stage and grabbed the mic. "MOTHER CALLS ME THAT, AND IT P***** ME OFF JUST AS MUCH WHEN SHE DOES IT! Yes, but I'm most certainly Peach Fowell."

Charlotte stuttered an apology, and hurried over to the boys' ball, desperately hoping they blotted out Peach's little tantrum.

"Jordan Lockwood."

Jordan came and took his place silently, without a word or a stutter either way.

_It's always darkest before the dawn. So why does it feel like dawn will never come?_ Jordan thought. As he thought, he contained his emotions and quietly entered the Justice building.

* * *

**A.N. All Reapings are now up! Who do you think will win? Thoughts/opinions do not count towards actual outcome. I'm excited. ^-^**


	14. Goodbyes Districts 1-3

**A.N. So, I'll try and do Districts 1-3 in this one. I hope that you guys enjoy it! :)**

* * *

**~~~WELCOME TO DISTRICT ONE~~~**

* * *

Morgana  
Morgana, waiting for her three brothers to come, turned expectantly to her father, whose eyes were shining.

Her gaze shifted to what he was holding in his hand. She recognized it as the necklace she'd won from seven tomboys in a bet on who could destroy the most bots in the Academy. She "killed" 100 bots before they got the better of her.

She smiled. He handed it to her, saying to her that her brothers found it in a small plain wooden box, inscribed with the initials M. Z. and words:

_**In case of being Reaped/volunteering, this item is my token.**_

_****_She took the necklace fondly. "Thank you, Dad." Her father smiled and ruffled her hair, and then her three brothers walked in.

As she hurriedly slipped the necklace into her pocket, Sam, the eldest of them at 19, remained standing whilst Peter (15) and Harvey (10) sat down next to and opposite her.

Sam was the only of the three who really realised the dangers of the Games she was entering.

Harvey spoke first, breaking the silence, "So, so you're gonna definitely come back, right?"

Morgana smiled and for the sake of her brother; Sam, her father and Morgana didn't explain fully the Games she was entering.

She replied to him, keeping her voice even, "Of course. And you'll still be banging nails into the table; and Peter will still be making precious gems out of a paper clip, a few sandwiches and a bit of graphite; and Dad will still be experimenting on the best way to extract the fur of the vicuna to make the softest jackets ever."

She smiled and Sam slipped in, "Well what'll I be doing?"

She looked at him for the longest time before replying softly, "Being the best brother ever and making beautiful items and making everyone happy. That's what you'll be doing."

Sam smiled and Peter then said, somewhat offended, "You reckon it'll take me a paper clip, a few sandwiches and a bit of graphite to make a precious gem?! It'll take me a drop of water and a bit of graphite to make a decent gem, just you wait! I'll show you when you get home." He grinned.

Morgana smiled softly and then mouthed, "You rascal. Just you wait." Her father cleared his throat and said, "Good luck Morgana, come back safely." He shook her hand, gave her a very stiff, formal hug, stood and left, leaving her and her three brothers.

Peter picked up Harvey, who squirmed and squealed, they both kissed Morgana on the head, and left. Sam coughed and said to her, "Good luck, I'll really miss you."

He hugged her hard and kissed her on the cheek. Then he stood, taking a long glance at her, walked towards the door, opened it, looked back one last time, and left.

She sighed. The door re-opened and Kitty entered. "Guess what I said made a big impact. You didn't have to take it seriously!"

Morgana looked at her in a mixture of surprise and confusion, then she remembered what Kitty had said to her earlier, "You'd sweep through the Hunger Games like it was simply a wave in your wake. Easily."

She mouthed the words silently.

"I didn't take them seriously, I've been planning on entering for months, and don't you dare blame yourself for whatever happens to me." Morgana said after a pause. "I'm not going anywhere."

Kitty stopped and looked at Morgana with a mixture of confusion, disbelief and irritation. "Fine. Just remember the training." The phrase gave her a sense of déjà vu, as Kitty had said something similar only that morning. She stood and left the room, as quickly as if she turned invisible. One moment here, next moment, gone.

* * *

Rohen

Rohen sat alone until his father entered. He talked to Rohen but he wasn't paying attention at all.

His mind was whirring with what his strategy would be, and what his clothing would be like, and 'I wonder if Caesar will have the logic to not dye his hair lemon yellow'.

Once his father closed his mouth Rohen nodded, attempting to look on top of things without looking either insane, high or drunk; and Rohen seemed to manage.

Looking at the table, his father left. Rohen was formulating his pllan and strategy, and he was smiling into the train carriage and onwards. He had his plan.

* * *

**~~~WELCOME TO DISTRICT TWO~~~**

* * *

Lauren  
Lauren gripped the fine sofa's edge and smiled. She would win. She was certain. She was waiting for the first 'batch' of people to say goodbye.

First in was Emile, just Emile. "Lo," Emile said; his voice croaky and hoarse.

He tried again. "Lo, Mum and Dad aren't coming to say goodbye. They're too busy." Having managed to get this sentence out, he relaxed a little, trying to gauge Lauren's feelings on this.

"So, so they don't care?" was the first thing she said. "They don't care that I may well die!" Her feelings were torn at this.

"Emile. I don't blame you. But if I don't come back, tell them, tell them they should be sorry they did this and that I'm with my sister now. Promise me!"

He nodded, and a single tear made its lonely way down her face.

"And if I never see you again, promise me you'll never forget. Burn my green diary."

He nodded, hugging her tightly. "I won't cry," she said, muffled by her brother's shirt.

All too soon he was called out and she sat in silence for a while. Soon the door re-opened, and Helm and Diana were ushered in. Diana ran to her friend's side, sobbing.

"Thank you," she choked out. "Thank you for saving my life."

Lauren smiled and replied. "You'd never have made it. At least I have a chance. You're only 14. I'm 18."

Helm was standing awkwardly in the doorway, staring at the scene. "Come here, Helm." Lauren asked. Helm walked forward, feet scuffing the carpet.

She hugged him hard, and he hugged her back. "Remember, you're sixteen. Go out and seize the world by the horns. Have fun, whilst you can. You know I'll always watch over you, whether I'm alive or dead."

"Lo…" He looked tearful.

"Helm, it'll be a blessing for me if I do die. I can meet my sister, she'd love to meet me, and I could tell her all about you guys. Stay strong and I promise I will. Until the end."

Helm echoed, "Until the end." She hugged them both, and they were taken out of the room.

She sighed. She'd now have to wait for Panem to take her to their capital, the Capitol. No pun intended. The door opened again and she looked up, surprised. "Lauren?"

"Herd?" Lauren asked, disbelieving.

"I wanted to… To say goodbye. You don't mind?"

"Of course not. Come here, little brother. Three years my junior, and still kind enough to come and say goodbye to someone you don't really know."

"Of course. I'm gonna miss you…" he trailed off in a deep hug.

"I'll miss you too, muggins. Stay clear of the tobacco, y'hear? I'd hate to see you that way, whether I was alive or dead."

"Yes. I will."

A Capitol representative entered to say that Herd had to leave and for Lauren to enter the train compartment. She sighed and stood, giving Herd a final hug before she left.

* * *

Yoran  
Ten minutes earlier, Yoran patiently waited for his family to come and say goodbye.

When they traipsed in, Yoran waited for his father, Dylan to sit next to him, and Ryan and Devin to sit next to him and on his lap respectively before saying, "I have a chance. But I need to tell you a few things you need to know. First off,"he said, his gaze shifting from an elegant golden candlestick holder to his father. "You've got to stop drinking. It isn't funny!"He added, as his father began to chuckle.

"I'm serious. If you're pissed, who's going to look after Ryan and Dev here? Really. Answer me!"

Yoran's father nodded and muttered, "I'll try." Yoran cried, "Trying isn't good enough! You have to definitely do it."

His father nodded and Yoran turned to Ryan. "Ry, you're a year younger than me, but still, be careful. Smoking cigarettes, cigars, or pipes, or anything really isn't cool. Drinking copious amounts of alcohol also isn't cool. Both lead to death. Okay?"

Ryan nodded, and quietly held out a wooden stick. Yoran recognized it as the stick he'd used as a sword in the mock Hunger Games he used to play as a child.

Yoran smiled. "Thank you, Ry. It means a lot to me. I'll have it as my Token."

Yoran turned to Devin. "Dev, don't you dare stray off the perfect path you're already on. You'll become the world's best dancer, I promise you. Even if it's my last request. Dev, never give up on your dream. If things seem rough, think of me. Think of me, and I promise things will turn out okay."

He kissed the top of her head. A man entered and told them they had to leave. Yoran took his sister off his lap and said to his father, as a final warning, "Don't you dare break your promise, dad. Don't you dare."

His father nodded and stood, leaving the room. Yoran sat in silence, waiting for the porter to tell him to get on the train. He'd sat in silence for about 35 minutes before the porter did come in and tell him to board the train. He stood gratefully and left.

* * *

**~~~WELCOME TO DISTRICT THREE~~~**

* * *

Inzilbeth  
Inzilbeth's father sat opposite her and smiled. She smiled in return and he took something out of a pocket lined with fine silk.

He opened the box and nestled inside was a fine tiara, the silver glinting in the light.

"Here, my little princess. Take this as your token, and it will remind you of you." (Does that make any sense?) "Take this and you'll forever remain my little princess."

She smiled softly and took the item and rested it upon her head. "Too heavy. But I suppose I'll wear it." Inzilbeth said.

She shrugged. "Maybe it'll be pretty for people to look at in their last sight." Her father chuckled and patted her shoulder.

"That's my girl! Some of the 'peasants' want to say goodbye."

He stood, brushing imaginary dirt off of his blue velvet jacket and left. A servant entered, scurrying to the carpet in front of Inzilbeth, curtsying gracefully.

"My lady, we wish you a very successful conquest," the servant began, choosing her words carefully. "We hope that you enjoy your conquest and have a safe journey-"

Inzilbeth snapped to her, "Of course it will be safe, peasant! They'd never risk having their sovereign riding on a ramshackle, bodged together pile of scrap! No, they'd have only the very best."

The servant nodded politely. "Pray forgive me, ma'am. You may or may not know my name. It's Mary. Farewell; and good luck Inzilbeth."

Mary curtsied and kissed the outstretched hand of Inzilbeth before scurrying out the door. In came the butler politely, bowing to her.

"James! Wonderful to see you!" Inzilbeth exclaimed.

The butler bowed and said, "I wished to say goodbye. I am retiring next week. You will unlikely see me again. At the age of 77, I feel that now is my time.

"If I don't, I will never cure this sickness. The seaman's sickness. I have forever been a seafarer, forever surrounded by landlubbers. I shall sail once more, and then have a peaceful retirement."

He looked tired, expecting the week to pass ever so slowly. "James, I will miss you." Inzilbeth said. The butler bowed low and exited the room.

* * *

Feanor  
Feanor grumpily surveyed the two brothers and his father. His brother held out a hand, and Feanor firmly shook it, looking him right in the eye.

They sat in silence. Feanor clutched in his hand the item he'd quietly decided as his token.

The bracelet he'd created. He just wanted something simple and quiet, but this seemed to be a perfect choice, if a little bright.

His father cleared his throat. "Good luck Feanor. We're all watching out for you. Good luck."

The man shook his son's hand. He and the brothers stood turned and left. Feanor didn't care either way. He was just tired.

Feanor hoped the beds in the train were as soft as they say. He almost fell asleep on the sofa; grumbling as he was harried onto the train.

He hurried to his compartment, barely glancing at the mentor and his Capitol escort. He was soon rolling into the chasms of slumber.


	15. Goodbyes Districts 4-6

**~~~WELCOME TO DISTRICT FOUR~~~**

* * *

Lilia  
Lilia's sister and cousin were peering anxiously around the door.

Already three candlesticks were embedded in the door, along with a pair of decorative swords. Lily whispered, "Lilia, just do that to the people in the arena, but preferably not us."

Lilia spun around, now holding a hefty pottery vase. "Ah, but there's where I'll be_ expected_ to be killing. Better get some practise in and to do it _unexpectedly_?"

She threw the vase, shattering a few centimeters above Lily's head, who promptly ducked behind the door. Shella, her cousin, whispered a few quick words to Lily, and crept forward quietly.

"Lilia…?" Lilia made no movement. Encouraged, Shella moved forwards, resting her hand on Lilia's shoulder. Lilia whirled around, a concealed knife slipping out, missing the neck of Shella, but getting a bit of her cousin's hair. Lilia grinned, triumphant.

"There. I'll keep that, so this way, I can guarantee that you'll have killed. _Then _you'll never be so sweet and sickly." She spat on the floor. She then withdrew a small bronze locket in the shape of a square with a skull on the front; when she opened it, a sickly smell drifted out, one that Shella would never want to smell, or recognize.

Lilia lifted the lock of hair and placed it simply in the locket, snapping it shut. Shella fell white, as she realised her cousin was serious. "Scared? Ya should be." Lilia gloated. "See ya around, Shella."

And then she said a rather rude sentence that's completely unprintable, finishing with, "… so, f*** off, Lily." Lily most certainly did, Shella rushing out of the door in a semi-run.

Lilia reclined, satisfied to have left on a high. "F****** relatives," she muttered, wedging the door open with the swords and wrenching the candlesticks out of the door, ready for whichever unlucky soul was next to enter her death room.

* * *

Kai  
Her sister entered, holding a package. "I've got some things for you. As possible Tokens."

She opened the box, withdrawing a few items, and finally a small magazine. "I brought that small fisherman figurine you liked. Then there's also the small fishing rod, without line or hook, because they might not allow it. Also-" She pursed her lips. "There's that - magazine – you like. You choose."

Kai's eyes passed the rod immediately, they'd never allow it, and the fisherman could be used as a weapon. He voiced these opinions, and his sister laughed. "So it's the magazine. Real stealthy you are." She sounded unsurprised, as if she'd known he'd pick that all along, which she probably did.

"Hey, so fine, I'm predictable. Sor-ry." He stuck out his tongue. "Hey, give me a break! I just know you better than most," she retorted. "I'm just lucky enough to be out of the firing line for the _Hot Stuff_ _Awards. _It's not too difficult to know you like teasing girls with your muscular body. And irritating the boys by nicking their girlfriends, you have got a right harem."

He shrugged. "Okay, so fine, I walk around topless a lot. I-" He was interrupted by the laugh of his sister. "W_alk around topless a lot?_ You'd go around shirtless 100% of the time if there was the option. If you end up in a desert arena, that'll be your best friend."

Kai grinned. "We'll see. You never know." His smile faltered as a Peacekeeper entered to tell Kai's sister that she had to leave. She stood, quiet, and said, "Goodbye Kai. Don't underestimate the thing you're entering."

She turned and left. Kai sat alone, no-one from the Fishing Guild came to say goodbye with the exception of one messenger, who told him that he would be sorely missed from the Guild, should he not return, and that he was a valued fisherman.

Kai nodded politely, and then as the messenger left, he would not imagine the sorrow the Guild genuinely felt; as they always sent the same message to all members reaped (so far only 3 had become members at an eligible Reaping age, and only Kai had actually been Reaped).

* * *

**~~~WELCOME TO DISTRICT 5~~~**

* * *

Nienna  
Nienna leant back and tried to relax and take deep breaths. She closed her eyes, which sharpened her hearing.

A door was opened softly to her left; and soft footfalls on the carpet walked lightly over to her. She opened her eyes, and her mother and father were sat next to her, looking at her eyes and face anxiously, trying to gauge her reaction to this sudden goodbye.

Nienna cleared her throat and said, "Don't give up on me. I may be shy but that may make me safer." Her mother nodded anxiously and squeezed her hand. "I can build myself up energy and strength, my stamina's not too bad. I will be hopeful. If I can't kill, then outlasting the others will have to be my strategy. I will survive…"

She was going to add "these Games" onto the end, but Nienna's throat was tightening.

"Hun. Honey. Nienna?" Nienna glanced at the door, as a white dressed Peacekeeper was holding a necklace. "This yours, ma'am?" he asked Nienna. Nienna nodded and her mother stood to take it. "That was my mother's." her mother whispered.

She returned to her seat, and the Peacekeeper left the room. "Nienna. How did this get removed from your possession?" Nienna's mother's eyes were not hurt, only worried and interested. She opened her mouth to talk, and then hastily began signing.

"I fainted, you know, when the woman shouted down the megaphone. I guess someone took it off me whilst I was unconscious." Her mother nodded and said, "That makes sense." Nienna nodded.

"The Peacekeeper's back," she sign-added. Her mother turned, and the Peacekeeper said, "Ma'am, Sir, you have to leave." They stood, kissed her on the head and left.

* * *

Valandil  
Estel rushed in, tears sparkling in his eyes. "Estel," Valandil began, but Estel had clambered onto Valandil's lap, hugging him tightly. His parents walked in, sitting either side of him.

His mother held out a small locket, in which was a picture of Valandil. Valandil smiled, and said "Thanks. I'll have it as my Token. Estel whined a stressed squeal; Valandil tried to pick him up and move him, but with one arm, it was no mean feat.

"Hey, uh, Mum, could you give me a hand here with muggins?" She laughed and stood, moving Estel off his lap.

"You know, you'll grow up to be the best guy, Estel." Valandil noted, because as soon as Valandil's mother had moved to take him off his lap, Valandil saw his brother's wrists slacken and his fists unclench the material of Valandil's shirt, and he fell limp.

"Valandil," Estel said. "I will always love you. I love you, Valandil. I always will."

He buried his face in his brother's shirt. "Estel. I'll tell you something. You'll never get Reaped. I'll make sure of that." Valandil smiled, his gaze moving from his brother to his parents. "I love you and him so much. I fear not the Games, nor of my imminent death. I fear of what will become of Estel; should I die.

He'd not want to see it, and he most likely will see it. I wish he'd read the notes in my top drawer, entitled 'Valandil's Ranting'; 'The Hunger Games: Half as Bad?' and 'One Man Wants Change'." Valandil's creative moments had birthed these stories, poems and rants.

His creative feeling was ebbing, returning to an angry destructive nature. His eyes clouded. His mother noticed, and knew what generally preceded this. "Goodbye, Valandil; come back son." she whispered, before standing, taking Estel's hand, and leaving.

His father followed suit. Just in time. Valandil's destructivity was working its business. He picked up a hefty vase, which had taken two people to get in there, and threw it at the wall, it shattered in an instant. He picked up an elegant painting and threw it onto the wall across from him. He spotted the candlesticks and instantly walked towards them.

He took the lighter out of his pocket, lit a candle, and looked at it. It was pretty. He lit the others too and then picked up two of them, turning them upside down onto their stand, pouring hot wax onto it. He scooped up the wax, either not caring or not noticing the intense heat of it; he then poured it all over his arm. He grinned as it hardened.

It was pleasurable to peel it off and replace it into the liquid candle wax; or even to hold it over the flame as it created a sphere of wax that fell. He left that, wax still on his arms. He crossed to the painting, and he lifted it, examined it, and took a pile of other paintings, chairs and other things. He took the candle and ducked into the den of wood. He laid the candle gently within the stack, and the oil painting caught.

Flames flaring up; Valandil shot out from underneath, remembering the incident earlier that year. He had found some train fuel and laid it in waiting for a friend, just to scare him, make him jump. It did more than that. It made him jump right out of his skin, into the river.

He was safe, but it cost Valandil his right arm. He sighed. The fire exploded, sending shrapnel everywhere and sending Peacekeepers running. Valandil sat on the couch quickly in horror. A Peacekeeper barged the door down, and the fireball blasted in his face. Ouch.

He returned, holding one heavy water cannon, used to put out riots and, in this case, fires. He fired, blasted backwards across the room and was probably knocked out. The ball of water shot to the fire, dousing it, causing a cloud of steam, which blasted the torn room.

He was shackled and was frogmarched out by the furious Peacekeepers, who plonked him on the train that had just arrived and told him to wait.

* * *

**~~~WELCOME TO DISTRICT 6~~~**

* * *

Karoli  
Karoli waited for all her family to enter. Only her throng of siblings were there. Her parents were waiting outside to speak with her alone after.

Sadie and Christian climbed onto her lap miserably. Choir had been crying, and was still crying now, half hidden in the shadows.

Marcus was present, under the guise of a close friend. "Marcus," she said. "Marcus, keep being the great surrogate father for these two and Choir. They'll need you. And Choir," she turned to her, stood and walked into the shadows with her.

"Choir," she whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind Choir's ear. "You'll do great. Just be careful, you know Marcus won't be able to do everything. I love you." She embraced Choir, who wrapped her arms around her and cried. She whispered re-assurances to her.

"Don't worry." She turned to Christian and Sadie. "Christian. You do everything Choir and Marcus ask of you. Don't retaliate. It'll be hard enough without friction from you two. Sadie, sweetheart, Marcus and Choir will look after you. Christian will be good as gold; and you'll all be fine. Okay?"

They both nodded in unison. She sighed miserably, which she masked as a cough. "Dad and Mum will want a chat." Choir said, and Marcus nodded and picked up the two children, who began to cry and wail as they were carried away from Karoli.

Her parents entered and sat beside her, trembling in sadness. "Just be careful, dear," was her father's only support.

Her mother talked non-stop and then took the liberty of handing her a coat which she instantly recognised as her own; which she'd carelessly left on the table shortly before leaving.

The left hand side sagged and she put a hand into the pocket to find a small stone, the size of a smallish bouncy ball. She instantly recognized it as the stone her late brother had played with at the age of two, shortly before his death.

She held it tightly. "I have my Token. We're all set." She faked a smile. "Mike played with this. I used to use it to amuse him to take his mind off the pain."

She remembered it clearly, he'd be crying out and she used to hug him, rock him, anything, but he would not stop crying. So in desperation, she walked outside and picked up the rounded stone.

She played with it with him, and she made him smile, occasionally laughing, but that hurt him, so she tried to not make him laugh too much.

She kissed her parents and then tucked the stone into her pocket. As they left, she turned away to hide the course of a single solitary tear, slowly working its way down her face, splashing over the stone in her hand.

* * *

Adam

Adams parents spoke very little in their time, just holding onto each other and looking. Sometimes words aren't needed, and this was one of those moments.

Adam's mother's eyes told the other two, "My son isn't ready for this, he's too young, he's unprepared, he's not right."

Adam's father told as little as he could but still his expression portrayed a feeling of helplessness, desperately wanting to get his son out of this predicament; and knowing he couldn't.

Adam's expression and body language spoke volumes. "I'm not ready, my mother's right, I'm terrified, I feel ill, I won't last long, dear God help me, or I'm done for. I'm done for anyway."

They smiled at each other for a long time and hugged and kissed each other until he was forced to be parted from his parents to board the train with Karoli. He looked out of the window, catching the last glimpses of the familiar town he would probably never see again.


End file.
